


Cities of our own making

by vendettadays



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Caper Fic, Developing Relationship, F/F, Undercover Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27761077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vendettadays/pseuds/vendettadays
Summary: Barcelona. St Petersburg. Stockholm. San Diego.The tale of four cities in the context of Carmen Sandiego’s relationship with Julia Argent.
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent/Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep
Comments: 14
Kudos: 166
Collections: Heart Attack Exchange 2020





	1. Barcelona

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comicArtistA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comicArtistA/gifts).



Spain hadn't exactly been a scheduled stop, but as was the way of things, Player had picked up intel about an exchange between VILE and an unknown operative in Barcelona. As was the way of things, Carmen had been on her way to rendezvous with Shadowsan in Turkey, just crossing the Atlantic when the call came in. And as was the way of things, Carmen had found herself changing into her red trench coat and fedora, intent on stopping VILE as the pilot prepared their plane to land in Barcelona. 

‘Heads up, Red.’ Player’s voice filtered through Carmen’s earpiece. ‘Looks like we have company. Ten o’clock.’ 

Carmen brought her mini binoculars to her eyes and sure enough, there was a trio of ACME agents in their tell-tell black suits patrolling the front of the Basílica de la Sagrada Família. Her eyes zeroed in on one particular agent. 

‘Looks like my favourite agent’s here.’ 

‘Devineaux?’ asked Player. 

‘Nope, guess again.’ Carmen tucked away the binoculars into her coat and straightened up. She looked over the edge of the roof she was standing on. She had jumped from higher, but she had to make sure, wouldn't want to land on an unsuspecting pedestrian if the wind turned. 

‘Come on, we all know it’s Jules.’ Ivy’s voice chimed in. ‘If there’s one person we can trust in ACME, I'd put my money on her.' The team descended into a bickering match as they placed money where their mouths were.

‘Alright, guys, head in the game. VILE’s not going to wait while we stand and chat,’ said Carmen, bringing the team back to focus. 

‘Yes, ma’am,’ came Zack’s voice just as Player said, ‘Sorry, Red,’ and Ivy with ‘Got it, Carms’. 

‘Zack and Ivy get into position. Be ready for the call from Player that the elevator to the Nativity Towers has broken down.' Carmen took out her grappling hook and aimed for the building opposite. ‘We have an exchange to do.’ 

***

Carmen slinked in through a side door and stopped, mouth falling open as she was transfixed in place by the lights and colours of the cathedral’s ceiling. She forced her gaze away, now was not the time to admire the architecture, and strode towards the nave where several lines of chairs were. She sat down in an empty row and patiently waited for an unsuspecting Julia Argent to walk down the aisle to where she was. Her eyes drifted to the sides, distracted and drawn to the flickering colours of the sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows. She needed to come back when she wasn’t on a job, so she could sit and admire the cathedral without a schedule. 

‘Carmen Sandiego.’

‘Jules,’ said Carmen, turning from the windows to face her. The corner of her lips curled up into a smile. There was just something about the way Julia Argent said her name that never failed to peak her interest. ‘Funny we should meet here.’ 

‘I sincerely doubt that ACME and you being here, same time and place is mere coincidence.’ 

The exasperated eye roll and Jules’ less than impressed expression had Carmen smiling wider. She shuffled down one seat and nodded at the empty chair. The shorter woman crossed her arms over her chest before she sighed and sat down next to Carmen. For a moment, as Jules tilted her head just as Carmen had done earlier, it felt like they were just two normal people admiring a ceiling held up by a forest of stone trees, contemplating a masterpiece of art carved into stone and illuminated by rays of multicoloured sunlight. 

‘I’m rather fond of the gothic flying buttresses,’ commented Jules idly, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if she was a tourist and not an agent of a covert detective agency with their most wanted sat next to her. ‘The Sagrada Família is beautiful, a true example of humanity’s devotion to art, but it has nothing on “Our Lady of Paris”.’ 

‘I would feel jealous if I didn’t know you were talking about a nine hundred year old cathedral,’ teased Carmen. She nudged Jules in the side, who only huffed and pretended to ignore her, even as her cheeks flushed as red as the stained glass windows. 

‘So what brings you to Barcelona? Surely, it’s not Gaudí.’ 

‘If only it was,’ replied Jules longingly. ‘If I was here to only admire the works of Gaudí, it would be a holiday and not work.’ 

‘I couldn’t have said it better myself.’ 

‘So you admit it?’ asked Jules and like a lioness pouncing on its prey, she turned back to Carmen. ‘You're here for work?’ 

Carmen smiled at the trap she had fallen into and shrugged. ‘Depends on your definition of work, I guess.’ 

A frown appeared on Jules’ brow, evidently not satisfied by Carmen’s answer. ‘If you’re here and we’re here, then there must be more that you’re not telling me.’ 

‘You’re getting warmer.’ Carmen leaned back. She always enjoyed the back and forth with Jules to her usual interactions with Devineaux. A verbal race was always more fun than a car chase. Less expensive too. Though, she never felt too sorry when Devineaux destroyed another car. 

‘An UNESCO world heritage site, Gaudí, internationally wanted super thief,’ Jules listed, punctuated with a flick of her fingers. She gasped, eyes widening dramatically. ‘You want to steal the Sagrada Família!’ 

Carmen laughed loudly, drawing the attention of a few tourists. She covered her mouth with her gloved hand, shoulders shaking as she tried to quieten her laughter. ‘Okay, that was a good one. My ambition knows no bounds, but unfortunately, I don’t think I can physically steal the cathedral.’ 

Jules looked awfully proud of herself, her restrained smile threatened to get bigger. If only they could do this for longer, thought Carmen, as she felt the shift in the direction of their conversation.

‘We got a tip off about an exchange between a VILE operative and an unknown.’ Jules turned to face Carmen directly, the frown made an appearance again and the lightness of their jokes and carefree banter faded back to business. ‘I sincerely hope that you are not the unknown operative.’ 

And that was Carmen’s queue to leave. She stood up and brushed down her coat. ‘You’re going to have to trust me on this one, Jules.’ As she was about to leave, she paused and dropped one final breadcrumb before she left, ‘They’re closing the Nativity Towers at four today. I hear the views of the city are amazing from up there.’ 

‘Carmen?’ 

The scraping of chairs could be heard, but Carmen lifted a hand over her shoulder in a wave and briskly walked away, slipping into an alcove before Jules could catch up with her. 

***

The sight of the city of Barcelona from the Nativity Facade was breathtaking. Carmen leaned on the parapet of the bridge that linked the two spires together. She checked her watch, five minutes to the exchange. The quiet taps of shoes on the stone stairs had Carmen smiling. Right on time. 

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Jules hug the wall, waiting in the shadows on the inside of the doorway. That was what she liked about Jules. For someone who worked on the law enforcement side of things, Jules always seemed to offer the road of least resistance when it came to getting things done. Something that Carmen could appreciate whenever VILE was involved. Jules worked by the book, but was flexible in a way Carmen would never have expected of an agent. Jules trusted when the need to trust arose, and it always worked out for the better for both ACME and Carmen when they joined forces. 

‘Ah merde’ muttered a voice. ‘Sandiego, of course, you would be the unknown operative.’

‘Le Chevre.’ Carmen nodded at her old classmate. ‘Good to see that you have what I came here for,’ she held out a hand, ‘Now hand it over.’

‘Over my dead body,’ said Le Chevre. He moved the briefcase behind his back and crouched low, readying to leap. 

‘Okay, no need to be so dramatic, but fine, if you insist on making it difficult for yourself.’ 

Carmen leapt forward first, hand outstretched to Le Chevre’s right arm. He dodged to the side, elbow going for Carmen’s back. She spun on the balls of her feet, leg kicking out in a reverse roundhouse. He jumped away, her foot missing his chin by a hairsbreadth. 

‘Come on, you can do better than that,’ sneered Le Chevre. He backed towards the parapet of the bridge and tore down the safety net, the only thing that stopped people from tumbling over the edge. ’Looks like I’ll be catching a black sheep today.’ 

Carmen rolled her eyes and jumped out of the swinging net. She side-stepped and ducked. Hopped over La Chevre’s long, swiping legs. She moved swiftly out the way of each of Le Chevre’s moves. He growled in frustration and barrelled straight into her, speeding faster than Carmen could move. She fell backwards and landed on her back with the full weight of Le Chevre on her front, the air rushed from her lungs in a gasping whoosh. She grunted, hands grappling for his wrist as his fingers tightened around her neck. 

'You're under arrest!' cried Jules from somewhere out of Carmen’s vision. 

Le Chevre's fingers slipped, distracted for a second and his weight on her front lessened. Carmen tucked her legs up quickly, knees to her chest and feet against his body and kicked. He was launched backwards into the air, landing with a thud on the ground. As soon as he landed, he jumped back up and grabbed the fallen briefcase. 

‘So long,’ he laughed over his shoulder as he broke into a run. 

‘Not quite.’ Carmen sat up, aimed and fired her grappling hook. The hook caught his ankles, sending him sprawling to the ground. The briefcase flew into the air. Carmen watched as it sailed over her head and right towards Jules outstretched arms. 

'Jules, watch out!' 

It was too late. Jules backed into the parapet and Carmen shot to her feet, all thoughts of Le Chevre forgotten. The blood drained from her face as she sped to Jules. She watched as the force of the briefcase sent Jules over the edge. The scream that started choked to a stop as Carmen caught the cuff of Jules' blazer.

‘How’s it hanging, Jules?’ Carmen joked through gritted teeth. Her left hand scrabbled to brace on the rough stone, fingers hurting with how tight she gripped the ledge. The muscles in her right arm shook with the weight of Jules hanging on for dear life. 

Jules’ glare would have looked scarier had her face not been as pale as snow. ‘Now is _not_ the time!’

Carmen groaned as her arms muscles protested when she tried to pull Jules up. ‘Drop the case!’

‘What? No! I'm not dropping the _corona tumular_ from the top of the Sagrada Família! That’s like committing cultural sacrilege!’ yelled Jules from where she hung. The case hugged tight to her body. 

‘Okay, okay! Forget I asked, just stop moving else I’ll be committing murder by dropping you!’

With a deep breath, Carmen pulled with all her strength, hoisting Jules up with a yell as the muscles in her shoulders and arms screamed. Shaking arms wrapped around her neck as Jules’ cold face pressed into the crook between her neck and shoulder. She hugged Jules close, tumbling backwards and collapsing onto the ground as her legs gave out from under her. Jules’ chest heaved up and down, her hot breaths erratic and shallow against Carmen’s skin. The tight hold she had around Jules refused to loosen, despite the jelly feeling and shaking of her arms. Her heart pounded heavily inside her chest, loud enough that she was sure Jules could feel it too. 

They stayed wrapped around each other, Carmen revelled in the warmth that returned to her body and in the contact of another as they recovered. Slowly, she released the grip she had on the fabric of Jules’ blazer, just as Jules lifted her head from where she had rested it on Carmen’s shoulder. 

Carmen groaned and she winced at the lancing pain that shot through her arms. Everything was going to hurt in the morning. She placed her hands on Jules’ waist and leaned back. The ACME issued glasses were askew, Jules’s short black hair windswept, and she looked tired like all the energy had been sapped from her being. 

Early evening had fallen and the sun was sinking behind them, bathing the sky in oranges, reds and pink. It was their very own cathedral ceiling of colour. And all Carmen could think was how easily this could have been Jules’ last sunset. 

‘You're going to have to trust me on this one?’ repeated Jules, voice hoarse from her earlier scream. Jules cleared her throat and shifted, so she wasn’t sitting quite so directly in Carmen’s lap. 

A small laugh escaped Carmen’s lips. ’In my defence, the safety net should have been better secured.’ 

Her laughter faded at the look on Jules’ face, dark eyes soft and contemplative as they moved from each part of Carmen’s face before settling on her mouth. She swallowed the lump in her throat, awareness filtering through the little bubble that had surrounded them. 

‘Are you okay?’ asked Carmen. 

Jules drew in a shaking breath and leaned back, gaze going back to Carmen’s eyes. ‘Yes, thank you for not dropping me.’

Carmen frowned, but forced her face to relax. She wanted to know the meaning of Jules’ earlier expression, but she let it go. 

‘I couldn’t let my favourite agent fall, could I?’ She leaned in close, voice serious. ‘You should have dropped the case. It’s not worth it if you're hurt or worse.’

‘I know, but I couldn’t,’ Jules shrugged and un-looped her arms from around Carmen’s neck. She had quite liked the feeling of closeness and the weight of Jules’ arm around her. The absence was oddly unsettling. 

What was Carmen going to do about that? Jules who would risk life and limb for an object. She shook her head at herself. It wasn’t just Jules, she wouldn’t have hesitated to dive after Jules had she not made it in time. She placed a comforting hand on the back of Jules’ neck, thumb circling the soft skin between the hair and collar, and said with a small smile, ‘Just don’t make it a habit. I might not be around the next time you skydive off a bridge.’ 


	2. St Petersburg

There weren’t many people in Carmen’s life who she truly trusted. VILE hadn’t been the bastion of trust and honesty for a girl growing up as a black sheep amongst criminals. She hadn’t known any different, until she did. The people she grew up with, the faculty, her roommates, they had all felt like strangers overnight. 

The island she had called home no longer felt familiar with the knowledge that the only family she had ever known was a lie. VILE had given her a roof over head, fed and raised her when she had no one else in the world. All of the sentiment had fell away the moment a stun baton was raised over an innocent man, whose only act was protecting a cultural treasure with his life. 

She was Black Sheep. The odd one out. The one who didn’t quite belong, but if she toed the line and nodded then everything would be fine. Making it off the Isle of VILE had been a breath of fresh air, an unseen weight lifted off her shoulders. 

A few years later and Carmen could count on one hand the people she trusted. If it hadn’t been for Player, she wouldn’t have known where to start when she had made shore in Morocco with a stolen motor boat, dressed in a scarlet coat and hat, and a hard drive with all the data she needed in the world to fight VILE. If it weren't for Ivy and Zack supporting her on the ground, well, all the close calls would have been the end of a very short career as an internationally wanted thief. She wouldn't even be here, alive and having celebrated her birthday just a few weeks before, if it hadn’t been for Shadowsan and his decision to save a toddler from a fire twenty-five years ago. 

Then there was Jules Argent. The one person she hadn't expected to find a place in her small circle. They stood on opposite sides of the game. ACME. Team Red. Not quite working against each other and not quite working together, but she and Jules had come to an unspoken agreement. Their differing methods put aside and stripped of all the trappings of a black suited agent and red wearing thief, it all came to one thing.

They wanted the same thing and they would do what they could to reach it.

Carmen wouldn't have pinned Jules to be that kind of person. Their first meeting on a train in India had been short, her mind preoccupied with finding Paper Star to notice much beyond the fact that she was Devineaux’s partner. The travel partner who had seemed so wistful that she was travelling India for business and not pleasure. 

But time and time again, Jules had proved her wrong. Just as Jules was doing now, because Carmen definitely hadn’t thought she would have agreed to their latest escapade. 

‘Anywhere in the world right now, no work, where would you pick?’ whispered Carmen into Jules’ ear, hands tucked into the crook of her elbow. 

‘Right now, I would very much not like to be here,’ murmured Jules through her teeth as she smiled beguilingly to a couple. She raised a dainty hand in a wave as they passed. 

‘Here’ was the Grand Peterhof Palace in St Petersburg, Russia. A place that ACME evidently had an invested interest in, enough to strike a temporary truce with her. 

Carmen tilted her head down, careful of her elaborate mask that covered the top half of her face. ‘Come on, Jules, who doesn’t love a masquerade ball?’ 

‘Not when it involves VILE.’ 

And that was the ‘why’. Why Carmen was dressed in a strapless, red gown that glittered with every movement she made, with a mask on her face and hair pinned up in an elegant knot. Why Jules was by her side in a dress that shimmered between black and dark navy depending on the light, and with a sinful amount of skin showing at the back. 

Every where and why always led back to VILE. This time by personal invitation to a masquerade ball by Countess Cleo, addressed to the Most Illustrious The Marquise of Santa Cruz, Doña Camila del Rosario Eugenia Alfonso y Deigo, and her wife, Ms Juliana Silver. 

‘Uh oh, my dear Juliana, it appears that the Countess is coming our way.’ Carmen’s face smoothed into aloof disinterest. 

‘Doña Camila! I am so honoured that you have graced us with your presence. It is so very good to see you,’ said Countess Cleo with excessive exuberance, arms raised in the air as she strode over to them, hips swaying with each step of her heeled feet. 

Carmen dipped her head to Jules’ ear. ‘Let’s stick to the script.’ 

‘The Marquise expresses her thanks for the invitation.’ Jules adjusted the silver mask on her face, a volto design that fit snugly over her eyes. Her lips painted a deep, burgundy slid into a smirk. ‘We heard that a certain collection of Fabergé eggs are here tonight in the Palace, a private collection owned by the last Tsar and thought to have been destroyed.’ 

‘The Marquise does have ears everywhere,’ replied Countess Cleo, a smirk of her own overtook the bottom half of her face. ‘There is certainly time to examine the collection later tonight, I assure you, but please enjoy the party for now.’ 

Jules straightened, her stature taller by a few inches from the high heels she wore. She pulled her shoulders back, stepped forward and stared at the Countess in an unnerving display of dominance. Jules’ accent, a curious blend of British and something else that Carmen had not yet identified, got stronger as she added in a clipped tone, 'You may have time, but the Marquise is a busy person and,’ she paused and gestured about the lavishly decorated hall room with her free hand, ‘she has already given up her valuable time to attend your party.’ 

Carmen glanced discreetly at Jules, her eyebrow hidden behind her mask rose in a fine arch at Jules’ subtle threat and challenge. That wasn’t how they’d practised their script. She moved deliberately, drawing the attention of the Countess as she placed a hand on Jules’ back, feeling the jump of muscle beneath bare skin and leaned down, lips almost brushing the shell of Jules' ear. ‘Good work.’

Jules nodded, expression contemplative as she pretended that Carmen had told her a great secret that had her looking back and forth from the Countess. 

‘I am sure arrangements can be made for one of our more prestigious guests tonight,' said Countess Cleo in a placating voice, as her eyes moved from Jules to Carmen and back again. ‘I will send for someone to fetch you when the collection is ready. I regret that may be an hour later and I do hope that is acceptable, Ms Silver.’ 

The Countess nodded her head in apology, first to Carmen, then Jules before she excused herself from their company. Carmen glanced to where Ivy was leaning against a tall circular table, arms crossed over her tailored dinner jacket and looking like she was made to wear a suit. Ivy started after the Countess, following at a distance as the Countess crossed the hall to a door on the eastern side.

The tensed line of Jules’ shoulders remained even as the Countess left. Her chin was tipped up and mouth pursed, an air of poise to the persona she had created for herself and Carmen was captivated by the change. She kept her hand on Jules’ back, thumb running comforting circles until she felt a shift as tension drained and Jules relaxed. 

‘What was that?’

‘When it comes to people like Countess Cleo with their regalia and sophistication, it’s always a show of who is more powerful,’ whispered Jules. She moved closer to Carmen, arm going around her waist, and she turned her head to block the view of her mouth. ‘That was me showing her that I am more powerful than her.’ 

Carmen swallowed, mouth going dry at Jules’ devious smirk and the playfulness that sparked in her eyes. ‘You definitely showed her who's boss.’

‘I thought Doña Camila was my boss? Which by way, why did we agree that I would do all the talking while you get to whisper in my ear?’

‘Personal eccentricity can sweep away most questions and when it comes to nobility, is generally accepted as an explanation for most things,’ explained Carmen. They stood close, intimately so and in a partial embrace that had she really been a member of Spanish nobility would have been deemed inappropriate. ‘Countess Cleo likes to collect people like she collects dresses. A marquise, even a peculiar one with an aversion to the public spotlight is something she cannot resist.’

‘I cannot deny your logic there.’ Jules cleared her throat. ‘Being your mouthpiece is no mercy on my voice.’ 

‘Well, you can be the titled, high nobility next time, and I’ll do the talking,’ commented Carmen. 

‘You say that like there will be a next time.’

Carmen kept quiet. She had forgotten that this was temporary. Working together like this was out of the ordinary and not normal for them. 

They took a turn around the room. The wall lamps and glittering overhead chandeliers effused a warm orange glow to the throne room where the ball was held. The gentle strain of the string quartet flowed through the air as some of the guests danced, while others chatted in small groups, waited on by a fleet of staff with glasses of champagne. 

Carmen listened as Jules explained the changing styles of the throne room, body almost vibrating with enthusiasm in the way she had learned to recognise whenever Jules talked about art and history. She enjoyed the moments when Jules got excited over fascinating facts and interesting things. She gently steered Jules out of the way of another couple, so immersed in her explanation that it drowned the outside world for a moment. Imagine if they were visiting in a personal capacity? Carmen was sure Jules would be more suited to be a tour guide than a tourist wherever she visited. 

They passed Zack, face a little green, as he offered canapés topped with caviar to a group of guests and stopped at the edge of the marked dance floor. Carmen turned and offered her hand. ‘May I have this dance?’ 

Jules’ face flushed a pretty pink, eyes widening with fright behind her mask. She leaned away from Carmen, as if she wanted to run from the outstretched hand. A high-pitched squeak of, ’Why?' was her reply. 

‘We can’t come to a ball without at least dancing once,’ Carmen reasoned as if it was the most logical thing to do in the middle of a caper. ‘We would look out of place otherwise.’ 

Prying eyes started to look their way, and Jules took her hand and stepped into Carmen’s space quickly. ‘I am terrible at dancing.’

‘I’ll lead, you follow.’ The space between their bodies disappeared as Carmen moved closer, their fronts brushed against each others’. She placed Jules’ left hand on her right shoulder, clasped her left hand to Jules’ right. Finally, Carmen placed her free hand on Jules' waist, fingertips brushing the skin of her bare back. ‘Ready?’

Jules shook her head, eyes terrified. It was a complete reversal to her previous demeanour, and it heartened Carmen to see so many different sides to her. She turned to the side for a moment, calming the sudden desire to run her fingers along the clenched line of Jules’ jaw. She reminded herself again that though she trusted Jules, this was only a temporary truce between two agencies with differing ideas. Nothing more.

She moved back with a wink and pulled Jules into the beginning of a simple routine as the strings started. For someone who claimed they couldn’t dance, Jules moved with remarkable ease. She stepped forward and Jules stepped backwards, bodies pressed close as they twisted in a turn and flowed like water, grey and black eyes fixed onto each other with all the finesse of two people who were used to moving together in a give and take. 

‘See, you're a natural,’ said Carmen as the music slowed. 

‘I stood on your feet seven times.’

Carmen tempered the grin that threatened to break character to a smaller, less enthusiastic smile. It was probably more than seven times, though Carmen didn’t care. ‘I wasn’t keeping count, but my feet do feel a little sore.’ 

As they twirled together, Carmen saw Ivy reappear from the door she had followed the Countess through. Her tall frame moved through the crowd gathered around the dance floor to Zack, who offered a drink and as Ivy took it, something shiny dropped on the tray. 

‘I’m going to spin you,’ said Carmen as she guided Jules to the edge of the dance floor. 

Jules jumped and the sharp heel of her shoe landed right in the middle of Carmen’s foot. ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry!’ 

Carmen’s eyes watered and she bit her lips in a pained grimace, but she continued through with only the slightest of stumbles. ‘It’s fine, fine, but I do need to spin you. Zack’s coming round with something for us.’

‘That’s really not going to end well,’ said Jules more to herself than to Carmen. 

It wouldn’t take long before Zack passed by. Carmen squeezed Jules’ waist reassuringly and angled her head, so that all she could focus on was the woman before her. 

‘We’ll just have to find out.’ Without taking her eyes away from Jules, they moved in tandem until the last second when Carmen let go of her’ waist for the spin. Her free hand stretched out towards the crowd. Something smooth and small was pressed into her palm. She closed her hand and pulled Jules back, ditching all semblance of dance as she wrapped Jules into a uncoordinated hug.

A spattering of applause broke out and Carmen almost laughed at the vice grip Jules had on her upper arms. They moved off the dance floor and made way for the guests who really could dance. 

‘How do you feel?’ asked Carmen, hands resting lightly on Jules’ sides. The skin on her upper arms almost seemed to burn under Jules’ touch, hands still on her arms as if she had forgotten about them. 

‘Like I’ve failed my grade five dance test all over again,’ grumbled Jules, despite her smile. 

‘It can’t have been that tragic—’ Carmen broke off at Player’s voice filtering through her earpiece. 

‘Red, we have a location on the eggs. It’s in the last room of the east wing hallway. I’ve disabled the alarms on the windows and have a heavy duty drone outside ready to transport them.’ 

‘We have a job to finish off,’ muttered Carmen under her breath. She took Jules’ hand and with deliberate slowness, strode with Jules to the eastern side of the throne room. 

No one stopped them as they made it through the doors and down the darkened hallway. They hurried down to the last room, hand in hand as their shoes tapped loudly against the lacquered floors. At the end of the hall was a single white-painted door, accented with curling lines of gold and gilded with moulding that branched into floral patterns along the door trim. Carmen opened the door with the key Zack had given her. 

The dark room was almost plain compared to the grand throne room and the extravagant hallways they had run through. It was decorated with a few couches and cabinets, shadowed paintings hung on the walls. The only light came from the window and Carmen moved quickly to open it. Sure enough, there was Player’s drone with a metal crate suspended from it. She reached for the crate, secured it to the window ledge and opened the lid. 

‘Carmen, I think I have found the Fabergé eggs.’ 

Jules was crouched in front of a large cabinet. It matched the style of the furniture, but was unusually large for furniture of the time. Something that Jules must have noticed. She dropped down next to Jules and touched the door. The slightest dip of a seam had Carmen pausing to run a finger over the smooth surface again. She took out a thin hairpin from her bun and dug the pin into the seam between the wood. With a flick of her wrist, the wooden panel popped open revealing a metal keypad and display panel beneath. 

Carmen glanced at Jules. ‘That’s definitely not 17th century made.’ 

She unclipped her right ear stud and pressed the flat rose-tinted metal disc to the panel. The display lit up with a blue light, numbers cycling through and stopping one by one as the device decrypted the passcode. The device dropped to the floor when it finished. The door of the cabinet swung open and inside were all ten of the never seen Fabergé eggs. 

‘Let’s move them before anyone notices that we’re not at the ball,’ said Jules. They worked quickly and efficiently, each egg moved from the cabinet to the crate with the utmost care. 

A high peal of laughter sounded from the hallway and Carmen froze. Her heart leapt to her throat at the clip-clop of shoes that accompanied the murmur of voices beyond the door. 

‘That’s the last one.’ Jules closed the cabinet and popped the wooden panel back into place. Carmen rushed to shut the crate and closed the window. 

‘Player, the drones all yours,’ whispered Carmen in a rush. The eggs were safe, but she and Jules were not. 

‘I have a plan,’ said Jules nervously, her hands resting on Carmen’s hips. She nodded, more than willing to go with whatever plan it was. The breath in her lungs caught as Jules leaned in close. The voices were almost audible outside the door. She swallowed as Jules licked her lips. A shadow appeared beneath the gap between the door and the floor. The hold on Carmen’s hip tightened. ‘Do you trust me?’ 

‘Yes,’ was Carmen’s immediate reply, without hesitation or pause. 

The first touch of Jules’ soft lips against hers had her blinking at the sensation. The gentle coaxing and pliant movement of Jules’ mouth was a dance of its own, and Carmen’s eyes fluttered closed at the heat that flooded her body and she kissed back, uncaring that their masks got in the way. A feverish urgency gripped Carmen as Jules pushed her into the wall. The front of their bodies pressed flush against each other. Fingers flexed and fumbled for purchase on her hips as she shifted. One hand slid into Jules’ short hair as the other trailed its way down the tantalisingly soft skin of her back. Jules moaned, the sound loud and explosive sent a thrill through Carmen as Jules melted further into her arms. 

‘Excuse me!’ 

Carmen’s eyes flew open as Jules jerked backwards, turning on the spot with surprising speed. Jules stood protectively in front of Carmen, silhouetted by the orange light coming from the hall and through the open doorway. Almost as if it was a vague after thought, she remembered the real reason why they were kissing. 

‘What are you doing in here?!’ cried Countess Cleo, voice shrill and lacking her usual grace. 

‘It was pretty obvious what they were doing,’ mumbled the accompanying VILE agent. He shut up quickly at the Countess’ sharp glare directed his way. 

‘I must apologise, Countess Cleo,’ interrupted Carmen threading her words with an accent. She moved from behind Jules and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. ‘My wife was so beautiful on the dance floor and I could not resist. I’m sure you would understand.’ 

The Countess stared with barely concealed shock that the elusive Marquise of Santa Cruz had spoken, or more likely that the Marquise of Santa Cruz looked like a dishevelled teenager. 

‘I believe I have been kept waiting for long enough and my interest has moved on,’ Carmen turned to Jules, noticing for the first time her smeared lipstick, ruffled hair, and the deep shade of red to her face. ‘Let us go, Juliana, I would very much like to continue this back at our hotel.’ 

She linked their hands together and walked past the Countess, head held high and without a parting look at their host. Instead of going back to the throne room, Carmen guided them to the hidden servant passages and with the help of Player’s instructions in her ear, they made it out of the palace without being stopped. They ran towards their getaway van and tumbled inside, the van screeched forward before Carmen had shut the door. 

Carmen sat back and took off her mask. She released the breath that had lodged itself in her airways since the Countess had discovered them. 

‘Here, Carm.’ From where Ivy was sitting in the front seat, she threw a packet of wet wipes over her shoulder. 

Carmen caught the wipes one handed and unwillingly she let go of Jules to open the wipes. She held out the pack to Jules who took it without a word and removed her mask. 

Ivy and Zack were oddly silent in the front. Jules was quiet as she wiped her mouth, removing all evidence of their kiss from her lips. Carmen did the same. Their normal post-caper success celebration was absent as they drove to the ACME recon spot, arriving all too quickly to a remote location on the outskirts of Peterhof. The van slowly came to a stop. Zack and Ivy exited first, leaving the tense atmosphere to Carmen and Jules alone. 

She didn't know where to start. She wasn't sure where she could start. It had worked, their kiss had been enough of a distraction to divert the Countess’ attention. It had also distracted her. The memory of Jules’ mouth moving against hers, the teasing touch of a tongue as it swept along her bottom lip had played over and over again throughout the silent drive. It was all she had thought about. 

‘Carmen,’ started Jules, fingertips on Carmen’s arm, burning like a brand on her skin. ‘About earlier—’

The doors to the van slid open on both sides, gloved hands grabbed Jules from her seat as another set pulled Carmen out the van. 

‘Jules!’ She drove her elbow into her captor’s side and struggled as her arms were pinned behind her back. Ivy and Zack were on their knees on the ground, hands behind their heads. 

ACME agents opened their van and took the crate of retrieved Fabergé Eggs from the back. The worked quickly, moving the crate into plain, blacked out van.

A familiar dark-skinned and blonde hair agent stepped out from the passenger side and surveyed the scene. Carmen never would have thought it before, but in that moment she missed Devineaux and his blundering ways. 

‘Good work, Agent Argent.’ 

‘Agent Zari, what do you think you're doing?’ Jules shrugged off the agents behind her, the jacket that had been placed over her shoulders fell to the ground. She stormed over to Agent Zari, fists and jaw clenched. ‘There is a written document, signed by the Chief on behalf of ACME that they would be free to go after the success of this mission. I believe the terms of the agreement were explicitly clear.’ 

‘Get into the van, Agent Argent. We are on a tight schedule and the Chief said no delays.’ When Jules didn’t back down, Agent Zari sighed and muttered, ‘Fine.’ 

Agent Zari stared at Carmen, distrust evident, though her face remained expressionless. Seconds passed before Agent Zari nodded and the agents released Carmen, Ivy and Zack. ‘I wish to remind you that we engaged you on our terms to assist with the retrieval and we are choosing not to arrest you this time.’ 

‘How good of ACME to stick to the words of the contract we agreed when you asked for my help. Though, I should have known that your words of good faith are worthless.’ 

‘I don’t think a criminal like yourself is in any position to talk about good faith or the worth of your words.’ 

Carmen’s eyes darted to Jules who was sitting inside the van. There was a dip between Jules’ brow, so intense that she wanted to go to her side and soothe it away with a touch. The thought of touching Jules reminded her of their kiss and she longed to talk to her about it. But as was the way for much of the things in Carmen’s life, now was not the time. 

The door of the blacked out ACME van closed with a bang and the van sped off into the night. 

The next time she saw Jules, they would talk. 


	3. Stockholm

They didn’t talk the next time they met. Or the time after. And the time after that. Osaka, New York, Cape Town, the cities and countries passed in a flickering blur. With every artefact returned, every evil plot devised by VILE fouled, and each innocent life saved, Carmen still hadn’t been able to talk to Jules at all. 

A month passed, then a second went along with the winter holiday and a new year began as a third went by, and finally it hit four months since their kiss in St Petersburg. The memory of the two of them hidden in a room in the grand palace, locked in an intimate exchange felt like a dream now. Except it wasn’t. Carmen knew it was as real as the snow that fell on her face.

The kiss was as real as the frigid cold of Stockholm in March. Carmen tugged her hood further over her head, shivering in her much too thin jacket. The Swedish temperature was not kind without her coat. She watched the ACME agents branch out, one trio following Ivy, while one single agent trailed off into a different street alone. The one agent she’d been trying to talk to for months. But she had lives to save first, then they could talk. 

She followed after Jules along the empty streets. The chill seeped further into her skin and down to her bones the farther they walked away from Ivy and the other agents. She sped up as they turned a corner. 

‘Jules,’ called out Carmen. 

The shorter woman froze and stopped in the middle of the pavement. Her shoulders rigid in her oversized coat before they were forcibly relaxed. Jules turned around and Carmen’s heart stuttered at seeing the fond, even hopeful look directed at her. It was as if Jules had expected her to show up. 

‘It’s been a while.’ 

‘You haven’t exactly made it easy.’ As much as Carmen wanted to talk with Jules, her body felt like it was freezing into an icicle. ‘Can we find a place to talk?’

Julia agreed and Carmen chose the city hall bell tower. It was closed in winter and was the perfect place for a meeting without being disturbed. Carmen picked the lock to the door of the tower when they arrived, feeling the familiar click as the locking mechanism unlatched. She beckoned to Jules to follow and walked in. A shiver ran through her, the warmth of the inside trickling down her spine like water as they left the cold. 

They walked in silence, their footsteps the only sound echoing through the empty tower as they moved into the Golden Hall. Normally Carmen would have stopped to admire the magnificence of the hall, but her heart wasn’t in it. Not today. Her head was firmly entrenched in VILE’s latest scheme. 

Jules ran through a list of items of both historic and artistic value, any of one could be stolen, or as Jules added with a knowing look at Carmen, for someone to prevent someone else from stealing. 

Carmen stopped and turned with a small smile at Jules’ infinite knowledge of all the valuables a country held, even if the current situation was nothing to smile about. ‘If only it was as innocent as that, but not this time. My intel indicates innocent lives are at stake.’

‘I was afraid you would say that,’ said Jules, expression turning serious and with more than a hint of concern. ‘My brief wasn’t exactly a happy read this morning, last night? I can’t remember when it was.’ 

The tiredness on Jules’ face explained it all. Like Carmen, the mornings, afternoons and evenings became meaningless with the frequency they travelled. Sleep was all that mattered some days. ‘I’m this close to intercepting the VILE operatives involved, but if they spot your fleet out there, they'll blow my plan.’ 

Jules reached out, tentatively touching the chilled skin of Carmen’s arms. When she didn't pull away, Jules stepped closer, fingers running a hot trail to envelop Carmen’s hands in hers. ‘Hey, it’ll be alright.’ 

‘I hope so.’ This mission had much more riding on its success. So many people could get hurt if she failed. Carmen’s shoulders sagged incrementally as Jules rubbed warmth back into her hands. ‘VILE must not succeed. This is so much more than just a priceless piece of art or an artefact.’

‘I understand,’ said Jules quietly, her voice echoing in the expansive hall. The pad of her thumb trailed to Carmen’s wrist, tracing a long raised scar from when she had broken it as a child. ‘I know this isn’t a good time, maybe there’s never a good time with what we do, but when this is over…’ Jules paused and took a deep breath, ‘There's this café in the city centre that does the good coffee. We can talk?’

‘I would like that.’ The worry Jules wore disappeared, replaced by a hopeful smile that sent a little thrill through Carmen at having caused it. 

‘Once this is over,’ repeated Jules to herself. She added firmly, ‘Our agents won't interfere.’

Carmen nodded, the weight of the burden lessened slightly knowing Jules was on board. 

‘I’ve already asked ACME to stand down, you can trust me.’ No sooner were the words out of Jules’ mouth, ACME agents swarmed into the hall and surrounded Carmen. 

Carmen jerked back, the heat of Jules’ hands abruptly lost and the chill of the hall became apparent like her body had been submerged into a bath of ice. She stared at Jules and backed away, betrayal and disbelief filled her. The illusion of the moment shattered as agents advanced, tranquilliser guns raised and aimed at her. 

‘Trust you?’ repeated Carmen, voice cracking with hurt. 

Jules’ eyes went wide, her mouth moved soundlessly, and she tried to get closer to Carmen who only retreated further. She looked just as surprised, face filled with horror that Carmen couldn’t be sure was real or not as doubt crept in like an uninvited guest. 

‘No, it’s not what you think!’ 

Carmen didn’t wait to hear more. She ran from Jules. ACME agents ran after her, and one by one she battled her way through the hallway to the stairs and to the top of the bell tower. She ran up the stairs, legs pumping with a momentum driven by anger and betrayal and _hurt_. The sharp tang of chemicals hit her, the taste of metal covered her tongue as she inhaled and coughed. The cloud of tranquillising gas engulfed her, but she pushed forward, past Agent Zari and out onto the bell tower. 

The edges of her vision blurred, darkness sank into the corners and sides like night bleeding into the evening sky. She grasped the snow covered stone, her legs shook weakly as she stepped onto balustrade. She blinked. The rush of wind whipped her hair back. Player’s voice was muffled and far away. The city disappeared. Trees passed. Snow fell. The Chief. ACME. _Friends_ , it would always be friends. Jules. Regret. Cold, she was so damn cold was the last thought as darkness pulled her in. 


	4. San Diego

Stockholm.

Stockholm. 

_Stockholm._ It was all that filled Carmen’s mind as she recovered. She pushed herself up, her arm shook as she put her weight on it. She sighed and flexed her hand. Her muscles felt weak. Her physical strength was less than what she was used to.

But she was alive and had survived, and that was all that mattered. 

She winced as she shifted her legs over the edge of the bed. The bruising from her broken ribs had faded from purple to yellow in the weeks since Stockholm, and it ached a little less each day to breath. She still hurt, all the time, and not always physically. It was taking longer to recover than she would have liked, but being placed on forced bedrest made her restless. She itched for something to do, even if it was just support work. Something to keep her mind busy and from thinking about… Other things. 

She slowly got up and changed out of pyjamas. The sunlight filtered in through her bedroom, inviting and warming her from the inside out. A walk would do her good. She grabbed her jacket from the back of her desk chair and left her room for the spiral staircase that connected the third floor to the second. 

‘You know, I really like this exposed brick wall thing we have going on.’ 

‘It would save us a heck of a lot of plaster, but what about an accent wall?’ Zack turned, his face and the front of his t-shirt was splattered with paint. ‘Hey Carms, didn’t know you were up?’ 

Carmen paused on the middle of the curling staircase. Her hand stilled on the metal bannister as she took in the second floor from where she stood. She hadn't ventured beyond her room and the bathroom for the past several weeks as she recovered. Ivy, Zack, and Shadowsan had her under strict orders to rest, even going as far as having dinner together in her room so that she didn’t feel too isolated.

Today was the first day she had felt well enough to leave her room. It was the first time she was seeing the second floor since they had bought the place. Zack and Ivy had transformed the room from the bare brick walls and rough hardwood floors of a warehouse into something that resembled a base of operations. 

In between the gaps of paint splattered cloth that covered the floor, she saw the hardwood floor was polished and varnished to a gleaming mahogany. Wooden crates littered the room acting as temporary tables with mugs and pots of paint on the top. Pushed to the south facing wall was a comfortable looking sofa and coffee table, which Carmen had vague memories of sleeping on before they had sorted a room for her. One of the walls was plastered white with swatches of colour painted. A huge tick was painted next to the colour red. As it should. Even with the half-painted walls and crates and paint tins, it already felt like home to Carmen. 

‘Where’re you going?’ asked Ivy, shaking Carmen from her thoughts. 

‘I’m going for a walk.’ At Ivy’s mouth opening, Carmen quickly added, ‘I won’t do anything strenuous like hang glide off the One American Plaza. I just need some fresh air.’ 

Ivy closed her mouth and pursed her lips, arms folded across her chest and looking mutinous. Zack had his hands on his hips, legs shoulders-width apart, and blocking the way to the stairs to the first floor. Her chest felt like it would explode with how much love she felt directed at her. It was adorable how protective Ivy and Zack were and Carmen couldn’t help but throw her arms around the siblings when she made it down the rest of the stairs. 

‘Thanks, guys,’ she said and felt two sets of arms hug her back. ‘I promise I'll only be out for a walk.’ 

‘You better!’ Ivy wagged a finger when she drew back. ‘I'll tell Shadowsan when he gets back from Indonesia and boy, his “I’m not angry, just disappointed” looks makes me feel so bad.’

Carmen huffed a laugh. She knew all about Shadowsan’s disappointed look. She had been on the receiving end of that glare for so many years as Black Sheep. It had a totally different effect now and she didn’t want to disappoint him. ‘Is there anything you need?’ 

‘Oh, Carms can you get—’ Zack groaned and rubbed his side where Ivy had elbowed him ‘— I mean, we’re good, thanks!’

‘Alright, if you’re sure,’ said Carmen. She shrugged on her jacket and pulled up her hood. ‘I love what you guys have done to the place. I'll help when I get back.’ 

‘Ah ha, don’t think you can pull a fast one on us,’ said Ivy with a grin. She chivvied Carmen away with flapping hands. ‘You leave the decorating to us and you go enjoy your walk!’ 

‘Seriously, she should leave the decorating to us professionals, can you imagine the entire place looking like Santa had thrown up on it!’

Carmen laughed at Zack’s as she made her way to the first floor. When she got outside, she didn’t know where she wanted to go. Left or right? She had spent the last month and a half recovering and her body felt the lack of exercise. 

It was going to take a little longer before she was ready to get back out onto the field. She hated to admit it, but it was the truth she had to get used to. Carmen chose left and started walking down the street, hands tucked into her pockets, eyes flicking from side to side, silently taking in her surroundings. 

The hairs on the back of her neck stood and the feeling of being followed prickled her back with unease. She slowed down to a more sedate walk, the sound of shoes clip-clopping on the pavement slowed in time to her steps. 

She sighed to herself. She really was hoping to go for a walk. But it seemed trouble always had a way of finding her. She looked around, there was an alley coming up, the gap between a car and a bus, all possible routes to lose her tail.   
  
‘Carmen.’

She stilled on instinct as the familiar voice washed over her and she closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself with a deep breath. When Carmen felt ready — she really wasn’t— she turned and found herself face to face with Julia Argent. 

The regulation glasses were gone and in its place were the round, rose framed glasses that suited Jules more than the blocky frames ACME made their agents were. The stiff suit was replaced with a white shirt patterned with dots, sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows, and tucked into black chinos instead of a black skirt. Sensible brogues completed her outfit. There was a weariness in Jules’ expression, dark circles beneath her eyes that hadn’t been present in their last meeting. 

‘I’m not here with… work,’ said Jules, words tumbling out without preamble, as if she was afraid that if she kept to their usual pleasantries Carmen would run. Her hands were clasped in front of her, fingers twisted and tangled together, and Carmen resisted the urge to reach out to stop her. ‘I-I just wanted… Can we find somewhere to sit and talk?’ 

Carmen sighed and resisted the urge to run her hand through her hair. She stared at Jules, thought about saying no, but instead she nodded. Relief rolled off Jules in waves, the tightness in her posture relaxed a little, and the furrow between her brows lessened. 

They walked in silence with Carmen leading the way. She promised Ivy she was going for a walk for fresh air and that was what she was going to do. It was a nice day and there was a gentle breeze in the air as the season slid into spring. It was just cold enough that a jacket was needed and Carmen burrowed her hands inside her jacket pockets. 

Carmen waved at the barista as they approached a converted camper van at the edge of a square. A sign on the roof proudly proclaimed the name, Coffee Campers. 

‘Carla! It’s been a while, where have you been?’ The barista grinned widely down at Carmen. ‘You been on vacation or something?’ 

’Hi Max, yeah, something like that. Can I get the usual for me, please.’ Carmen turned to Jules who quickly ordered an Americano, no extras, not even milk or sugar. The coffee seemed to fit her impression of Jules. No frills needed. Coffee was coffee. 

She paid and they waited for their order, still without a word exchanged since they had started walking. Carmen wasn’t going to be the one to give. She already agreed to coffee when she could have said no. That wasn’t true. She wasn’t sure she would have said no, not to Jules. 

Max leaned out of the van and held out two paper cups capped with a plastic lid to Carmen. ’Here you go, Carla. Don’t be a stranger, okay?’

Carmen thanked him and took the drinks. She led the way to a free bench shaded by trees, overlooking the rest of the square. She sat down and handed the coffee to Jules who took it and rested it on her knees. Jules’s looked ill at ease, back impeccably straight and eyes darting everywhere like she didn’t where to look. A foot of space sat between her and Jules. The gap could have been a mile wide with how uncomfortable it was. The easiness of their interactions from before Stockholm was gone, every glance stilted and conversation that would have flowed now felt awkward as the ghost of their last exchange hovered between them. 

‘How did you find me?’ Carmen’s curiosity finally got the better of her, unable to hold in the question any longer. She bit the inside of her cheek when she realised she did the thing she had said she wouldn’t. 

‘I found it myself,’ replied Jules. She shrugged her shoulder, a small smile appeared before disappearing almost as quickly as it appeared. 

Carmen blinked in surprise and confusion. No one other than Team Red knew about their new base of operations was in San Diego. She had Player pull all the transaction data on the purchase, everything that could have been used to identify her from the internet, even the ads when the building had gone up for sale. 

‘It was old fashioned detective work.’ Now the smile reappeared, starting as a slight tilt at the corner of Jules’ lips, growing until it bloomed into a shy smile, hesitant as to whether it would be received well. 

‘It was your name that gave you away.’

‘My name?’ 

‘Not you, but the company that used to make your fedoras,’ clarified Jules. She flicked the edge of the plastic lid of her coffee with her thumb, eyes focused on Carmen. ‘I searched for it online and found the history of the company. A fedora company based in San Diego. Was that the link to my— _the_ Carmen Sandiego? So I dug a little deeper, but all the articles stopped at the history of the company. There was nothing on what happened to the company after it went bust, which is highly unusual.’ 

Carmen watched as Jules continued to explain, captivated by the way Jules’ eyes sparked as her hands gestured in the air and words fell from her mouth almost faster than she could speak. Her coffee forgotten beside her on the bench. 

‘Data doesn’t just disappear. When that happens it’s normally because someone has done something, so I called City Hall and asked for more information on the company. A lovely woman by the name of Deborah Greene was kind enough to fax a copy of the land search from their paper files and I was able to find out that a company had bought the building,’ Jules paused for breath for the first time since she started. ‘A company registered in the Cayman Islands called _Moda Escarlata_ had bought it. It was a long shot, but I had a feeling it was you.’ Jules looked Carmen directly in the eye. ‘And I was right.’ 

Carmen sipped her tea to hide the smile threatening to encompass her face. It was endearing to see Jules' enthusiasm at solving the mystery. She was obviously very pleased with herself, and Carmen would be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. She would have to talk to Player on how to better protect themselves against something like this in the future. They also needed to stop using variations of her name or references to red too if they wanted to stay under the radar. 

‘You were always my favourite ACME agent,’ murmured Carmen into the plastic lid of her drink. 

The moment of lightness broke at the mention of ACME and silence descended again. 

‘Am I?’ Jules asked tentatively, hand back to fiddling with her coffee. ‘Am I still your favourite agent?’ 

Carmen restrained the reflexive reaction to comfort Jules with the words she longed to say, that she was, that after everything, Jules was still her favourite. She stopped herself as the memory of the heavy snow and frigid cold surfaced. She had placed her trust in Jules and had almost died. 

‘Can I trust you?’ The question was out her mouth before she could stop herself. Jules’ betrayal in Stockholm had hurt deeply. It had kept her up at night, examining every interaction for the slip that would allow Carmen to know exactly when it had all been a ruse. She hadn't found it. It had her focusing on the kiss they had shared for an ulterior motive that she was sure wasn’t there. 

A pained look crossed Jules’ face, bottom lip caught between her teeth so hard that Carmen worried for the sensitive skin of her lip. Jules’ fists rested on her knees, knuckles white from how tight she clenched them and despite all of this, Carmen waited. She refused to jump the gun like she had earlier.

She needed Jules to say it. 

Jules’ mouth opened, but no sound came out and she closed it again. She sighed, a deep exhalation that moved her shoulders and looked Carmen in the eyes, an unwavering gaze filled with determination and promise. 

‘I have lost count of how many times you have proven to me that you are not what Agent Devineaux and ACME have come to believe you to be.’ The strength in Jules’ voice soothed the initial jolt of Carmen’s heart at her words. Jules’ sipped her coffee, wetting her lips before she continued, ‘I don't think I have ever really believed you to be a criminal, not in the truest sense of that word, and certainly not with how every stolen artefact or painting or ill-gotten funds have been returned to their rightful owners. 

‘Your methods are unconventional, definitely falling outside legality most days, but always managing to stay on the right side of morality and…’ Jules shook her head, the sureness in her voice wavered as she clenched her jaw to stop the quiver of her chin. The inexplicable look on Jules’ face sent Carmen's heart racing as it was directed at her. ‘I broke your trust in Stockholm and I’m paying for it.’

Carmen watched Jules, silently taking in the way the other woman reigned in her emotions. Her eyes closed briefly before opening, almost as if she had shrugged on a layer of armour. 

‘You will always have my trust, but as long as I am with ACME, I cannot vouch for my trustworthiness to you when it can be so easily disregarded by the organisation behind me.’ 

Carmen leaned back in her seat, feeling oddly bereft at Jules’ confession. She mused over the words as the square slowly filled with the lunch crowd from the office buildings that surrounded them. Her tea had long gone cold. She drank it anyway for something to do as she sorted how she really felt. 

‘Thank you for being honest with me,’ said Carmen finally. Jules had given her the truth, instead of a promise that would eventually be broken and Carmen was grateful for that. 

Was she disappointed? No. Was she sad? Yes, because everything that Jules had said only reinforced that she could and did trust her. But as much as she trusted Jules, she didn't trust the organisation that lingered over her shoulder like a sinister spectre in the night. 

‘I’m so sorry about Stockholm,’ whispered Jules, eyes wet and shining with unshed tears. 

Carmen shifted on the bench and smiled sadly, eyes softening at the inward curl to Jules’ shoulders and how it made her seem so much smaller than she was. Her confidence absent and Carmen wished she was brave enough to reach across this new divide. 

‘Me too.’

***

Carmen thought time would help. It did and she learned to move past the unexpected level of hurt she felt. Shadowsan made her practise her katas with him. Player kept her updated on ACME activities around the world, never mentioning Jules by name, only the agency she worked for. Zack made her laugh with bad jokes and an abundance of puns, even on the days when there wasn’t much to laugh at. Ivy kept her company doing normal and mundane things she had never had the chance to do growing up on the Isle. They shopped, watched bad reality TV shows, and talked about Ivy’s latest dates.

‘Before we even order, he’s already talking about a second date!’ Ivy threw her arms up, jostling the bowl of popcorn between them on the couch. 

‘Bit presumptuous of him,’ commented Carmen. She leaned her elbow on the back of the couch cushions. It was a rare day off for her, with no travelling to be done and with time to sit idly about. ‘Better luck next time, right?’ 

‘Yeah, I guess.’ Ivy sighed, resignation to her features, but she perked up quickly. ‘I did get a message from a really cute girl that lives in the Bay area when we were on the New York heist. If VILE stays this quiet, I might ask her out.’ 

The chatter surrounding VILE had been unusually quiet as of late. With the mention of VILE and Ivy’s cute dates, the thought of Jules drifted to the forefront of her mind. 

‘Uh no, nope, Carmen we're not going down that route!’

‘What are you talking about? Stop shaking me.’ Carmen batted Ivy's hands out the way. She frowned at Ivy who only frowned back with equal amounts of displeasure. 

‘You’ve got that look on your face.’

‘What look?’ asked Carmen, arms crossing over her chest defensively. 

Ivy pointed at Carmen’s face, finger circling dangerously close to her eye. ‘The one of pure longing. You're thinking about Jules, am I wrong?’   
  
Her mouth opened with a retort she didn’t voice. She pursed her mouth. Since Devineaux’s return to ACME, Carmen found she saw less and less of Jules. The weeks between each of their meetings got further and further apart. Stockholm. San Diego. Mexico was the first time she had seen Jules in nearly two months since they had coffee in the square. Mexico had been the last time she had seen her too. A brief meeting of their eyes, Carmen hidden in the shadows, and Jules in the light of the boxing ring. Her heart had raced at the sight of Jules and that was all Carmen allowed herself to feel.

‘Fine, I was thinking… about her,’ admitted Carmen finally. The ache in her chest a familiar friend the longer she went without catching a glimpse of the other woman. Maybe it was longing she felt. Whatever it was, Jules’ absence hurt more than she had expected. But Carmen had made her position clear. Jules being Jules, was probably respecting that. 

Ivy shook her head sadly. She lifted the popcorn onto the coffee table and shuffled over next to Carmen, slinging a comforting arm over her shoulder. 

‘You got it bad, Carms.’

‘Yeah, I probably do.’

‘No probably, you definitely do,’ Ivy snorted and bumped their shoulders. ‘Zack and I had a bet on how long it took you guys to seal the deal.’ 

‘Ives! We didn’t “seal the deal”.’ Carmen cringed.

‘Fine, whatever, you both kissed and it got weird, and then things went south in Sweden…’ Ivy trailed off before dropping her head back on the cushions with a loud groan. She jerked back up to face Carmen. ‘Look, I’m going to be truthful, ‘cause you’re family, so I’m going to say the hard things even if you don't want to hear them.’ 

Warmth filled Carmen at hearing that Ivy thought of her as family. She nodded slowly.

‘You haven’t been doing okay lately— Hey, I haven’t finished!’ Carmen closed her mouth at Ivy’s held up hand. ‘I know you're having a hard time with finding your mom, but you’re taking risks you wouldn’t have done before.’

That was hard to hear and Carmen ducked her head as Ivy finished, blinking quickly to stave the burning in her eyes. Ivy hugged Carmen who sank gratefully into it. 

‘I don’t know, maybe it’s to do with Jules, maybe not, but she had a way of grounding you,’ said Ivy, pulling back with a serious expression and Carmen immediately felt guilty for making the younger woman worry. ‘Just promise me that you’re taking care of yourself?’

‘I promise,’ agreed Carmen with a smile, feeling a little lighter even if she still carried more baggage than she could handle sometimes. ‘Thanks.’ 

Ivy grinned back and clapped her hands together. ‘Perfect, now do you want to watch _The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills_ or _The Only Way is Essex_?’ 

***

The days passed. Months moved from one to the next until one day Carmen found herself looking for her familiar agent only to realise that it had been three months since Mexico.

Three months since she had seen Jules.

She caved in New Orleans. 

Carmen lowered the windows and leaned casually out the moving car, looking relaxed and unaffected, when in reality her pulse raced at finally asking the question that plagued her thoughts. ‘Devineaux, where’s Jules today?’

Devineaux turned back to the front pointedly, though Carmen didn’t miss the grim expression. ‘That is classified, but Ms Argent is doing other things.’

‘Shame, she’s probably a better driver. And those are such nice cars.’ Carmen waggled her fingers with a smirk and closed the window. The moment Zack veered the car from next to Devineaux’s, she sank into her seat, the smirk slipping from her face as the news sank in. 

Doing other things? And Devineaux’s look? 

It only worried Carmen even more. Where in the world was Jules?

***

Jetting from New Orleans to Venice then London all in the space of a few days had taken a toll on all of them, and Carmen was looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed. But not even six hours had passed since they had landed back in San Diego and Ivy was knocking on the doorframe to her room. 

‘You have a guest.’

‘Is that a euphemism for VILE? Because Ives, I am beat,’ grumbled Carmen, in the middle of unpacking her suitcase. ‘I love the UK, but hate the flight and time zone difference.’ 

‘Come on, Carms, you’ll want to meet them.’

‘Fine, fine, fine.’ Carmen groaned and got to her feet. The room swayed like she was still on a plane and she righted herself before she toppled over. She left her room and made it halfway down the stairs when she froze.

Jules stood in the middle of the second floor. Carmen’s heart lodged itself in her throat at seeing Jules in a tailored blue shirt tucked into white ankle-length chinos, sleeves rolled up and a duffle bag hanging from a strap on her shoulder. She sped down the spiral staircase, ignoring Ivy’s squawk that she would fall and break her neck if she wasn’t careful.

She approached the shorter woman in disbelief. Jules was really here. Confusion sank in as she tried to wrap her mind around why Jules was in the middle of their HQ after months of being away. ‘I thought you were “doing other things”? That’s what Devineaux said.’

A smile brightened Jules' face and the air left Carmen's lungs at the way her entire being seemed to light up. The tenseness that had always been present in her was absent, replaced by a lightness in Jules’ dark eyes and a happiness that Carmen hadn’t seen before. 

‘I left,’ said Jules simply, the corners of her eyes crinkling as her smile grew.

‘You left?’ repeated Carmen, unsure that she had heard correctly. 

‘Yes, I don’t work for ACME anymore.’

‘You don’t work with ACME?’

A giggle escaped from between Jules’ lips, her fist held in front of her mouth. 'Yes.’ 

Carmen gaped at Jules as elation steadily filled her like water from a running stream. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Without thinking, she crossed the few metres between them and pulled Jules into a tight hug. The shorter woman fit perfectly beneath her chin, her arms around Carmen’s waist felt like coming home and she closed her eyes with a sigh of relief. 

Two sets of arms wrapped around Carmen and Jules, and she opened her eyes to find Ivy and Zack pressed in close and smothering Jules in the middle. Shadowsan smiled from next to her, hand resting on Carmen’s shoulder. 

‘I can’t breathe,’ came Jules’ muffled voice from the centre of their group hug; a bout of giggles rose from where she was hidden in the crook of Carmen’s neck. 

‘Okay, break it up guys, give the lady some space,’ ordered Zack, arms out to his side as he backed away from the hug. 

‘Come on, you dork.’ Ivy dragged his brother by his collar. ‘Let’s order dinner and leave them to catch up.’

‘I think I will run through my _katas_ ,’ said Shadowsan. He cleared his throat, but winked at Carmen before going to the dojo. 

‘Are you okay?’ She looked down at the head of black hair, Jules face still pressed to her neck. 

‘Yeah.’ A shiver ran through Carmen as Jules’ breath caressed her skin. She stepped back, but kept her arms held loosely around Carmen’s waist. ‘I actually had a speech prepared. I really wasn’t prepared for this kind of reception though.’ 

‘You can still say your speech, I bet you practiced in front of the mirror for ages to get it right.’ 

A blush crept across Jules cheeks. ‘I didn’t practice that long.’ 

Carmen’s smile widened at the weak protest. 

‘My heart wasn’t in it anymore,’ started Jules. She focused intently on Carmen. ‘I was good at my job, really good, but it all felt meaningless when I couldn’t even keep my word to the people most important to me. I used to get so excited at every new city and country I visited. Even that started to lose its magic. Towards the end it all felt the same, one never-ending and misguided chase for the wrong person doing the right thing.’

Carmen slid a hand into Jules’ hair, thumb tracing the line of her jaw and drawing a shuddering breath from the woman in front. Her heart beat loudly, a two beat thump-thump as Jules words felt more like a confession than a speech.

Jules pressed her cheek to Carmen's hand, eyes closing briefly before she continued with renewed confidence. ’I have a degree in Intelligence and International Security, and a second degree in History. I have exceptional logical reasoning, problem-solving, analytical skills, and I passed the physical training for Interpol and ACME. The type of skills that could be useful in a pinch, and if all else fails, I apparently have good acting skills.’ She let go of Carmen’s waist and held onto her hands in a tight grip. ‘Is there a place for me here? With you?’ 

Carmen bent down and pressed her forehead against Jules’, a sliver of space between them as she whispered, ‘For my favourite agent? Always.’


End file.
